


The Threads of Being

by mrsvc



Category: The Big Bang Theory
Genre: F/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:06:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsvc/pseuds/mrsvc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He worships her power over the lives of men, she never asks him to speak. Together, they rule the universe for all eternity. Raj/Karma</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_ **Fic: The Threads of Being** _

Title: The Threads of Being  
Author: [](http://mrsvc.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**mrsvc**](http://mrsvc.dreamwidth.org/)   
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory  
Pairing: Raj/Karma  
WC: 371  
Rating: None.   
Warnings: None.   
Spoilers: Uh, none.   
AN: Because of [this thread](http://community.livejournal.com/sheldon_penny/226967.html?thread=3655063#t3655063), I ended up writing a fic about Raj/Karma. The fic is there at the end but to save the thread Off-Topic posts, I'm posting it here. Please enjoy this little cracky, metaphysical, abstract fic!

He always bowed to her when he felt the strings pull. He could sense the fabric of his life was frayed at the edges and it was up to her to weave them together in any way she wished. She could pull him into a tangle of lies and confusion that would tailspin his life. She could make him too proud of his degree and his education and weave his soul into the body of the flea. She had him in the palm of her hand like the favored plaything of a child. He always bowed to her when she pulled at the very threads of his being.

So, when she came to him at night, in his dreams, he would bow to her. She would smile with a sort of frightening grace and he would try to open his mouth to speak his high regard for her. She would hush him, telling him that no words were needed from a servant so faithful as he. He had proved himself so well in actions that words were nothing to her. She let the ephemeral, ghostly blue of her eyes speak for her. She didn't need words from him.

He trembled in her presence; her ruthless glory and all-encompassing pity. She sent men through eons of slavery for lording over others, she took pity on the enslaved and gave them a fast and breath-taking freedom as cheetahs or leopards, animals that roamed wild without constraint or fear. She took the very Lives she controlled and gifted Life to those who lived by her rule. She punished the wicked and blessed the grieved and suffering. He knew that, even if he could speak to women, he would have been speechless, breathless, awed in her presence until he existed no longer.

One night, reclining on a bed of moss by the very River of Time, watching centuries flow by like silver liquid, bumping over the jagged rocks called "Age", "War", "Drought", and "Catastrophe", and gliding over the smooth rocks of "Plenty", "Youth", "Growth", and "Peace", she asked him if he wished to stay with her forever. He didn't have to speak but kissed her cool, cerulean hand and smiled. Together, they could rule for all eternity.


	2. Glass

He awoke once to find her frozen on the edge of the River of Time, Breezes of  Peace strengthing into the Gales of Turmoil. Her white hair whipping around her  face. He padded quietly behind her and peered into the ripples of the water. It was  clouded and dark and he swore the waves smashed into the rocks like gunshots and he understood.

So he brushed his fingers against her own slender digits. He stepped back and let  her catch his eye. She stepped forward and he back, moving her away from her responsibility. Taking her away from her duty and her punishment. Her sorrow.

And she reaches a hand out to grab his but he always stays a hairbreadth away. Because she hates War. She hates the deaths she has to deal out and the guilt of men who blame her for their lives.

So he pulls her away with a gravity all his own. He takes her into the Glade of Hope in the Forest of Uncertainity. The spot where the only place to go is upward and on. He pulles her into him and today she isn't cold. Today, she is radiating the heat of a thousand guns, of hot foreign suns and young men dying before their time. But he takes the heat and shares it with her.

She feels fragile against his body, like blue glass washed up on the seashore. So he's afraid to touch her, to press her into the soft grass and sear himself into her eternity. But she grabs him and shows him how unbreakable she is. How she's survived eons of terrible sights. So, he holds onto her. He loves her. And when he thinks she's going to break, he feels himself crack with the searing heat and the flood of emotions.

She forgets she's a goddess and he forgets he's a mere mortal.

And They Just Are.


End file.
